


a thing of beauty

by Ricky B (littletoes101)



Series: beautiful world [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletoes101/pseuds/Ricky%20B
Summary: Children are a thing of beauty. GerIta focused, multi-chapter. Mentions of RusPru, UsUk, SwissAus, and Spamano.





	1. One

“Hey, Germany? Why don’t we have a baby?”

The coffee that the blonde had just sipped came spluttering out of his mouth as he whipped his head around to face his husband. Italy was standing behind him at the kitchen counter, nonchalantly cutting up vegetables for tonight’s dinner, as if he hadn’t just asked a potentially life-changing question.

“Could you say that again, please?” Germany asked, slowly, answering Italy’s question with another question. Which, usually, would drive him insane, but he couldn’t think of any other way to respond to the other nation.

“I sa-id,” Italy repeated, drawing out the _a_ in said, “why don’t we have a baby?”

Germany’s heart rate slowly began to go back to normal. Slowly, but surely. “You… aren’t serious, are you?”

Italy finally turned around, puffing his cheeks out a little indignantly. “Of _course_ I’m serious! Your big brother has a baby, and so do America and England! And we’ve been married for longer than all four of them, but we still don’t have one!” His voice turned into a whine at the end.

“Well, to start with, bruder’s baby was an accident,” Germany started to say. “And with America and England… well, you know how those two are.” After he’d caught wind of Russia having a baby with Prussia, America had more or less demanded that he and England hurry up and have one, too. Thus leading to their current situation.

“And that’s not all!” Italy continued, holding up a finger. “Austria called me this morning and told me he’s pregnant, so now he and Switzerland are having a baby, too! And if Austria gets to have one, then I want one too.”

“It’s… really not that simple, Italy,” Germany sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he set down his coffee cup. God, today was going to be one of _those_ days, wasn’t it? “Though I suppose it isn’t really surprising that you’re getting baby fever, I should’ve expected this…”

“But it _is_ that simple, Germany,” Italy whined. “And it’s not just baby fever, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time! We could have a baby. After all, we’re married, and our economies are stable right now… why _don’t_ we?”

“Because this isn’t the sort of thing you just… decide on a whim,” Germany attempted to explain. “Some people plan for years before they have a baby--”

“But I don’t wanna wait years, I want a baby right now!” Italy proclaimed.

“Italy,” Germany said seriously, his tone dropping a little. “I know what you want, but we have to think about this. A baby is a very serious commitment. You raise them for eighteen years, and then you have a part of _you_ running around the world for the rest of your life.”

“But don’t you want that?” Italy asked, finally walking over to his husband and putting a hand on his shoulder. “A little part of _us_ , in the world, forever and ever.”

For just a moment, Germany fidgeted. “It… it isn’t that I don’t want this, Italy. I think that having a baby with you would be a beautiful thing, but… I’m afraid I won’t be ready.”

Italy’s eyes softened, and he put his other hand on Germany’s other shoulder and rubbed gently. “Ludwig…” He murmured softly. Their human names were always reserved for gentle, intimate moments, and Germany blinked rapidly when he heard it. “I didn’t know you’d be worried, but… I’m sure you would be ready! You’re _always_ ready for everything!” A smile stretched widely across Italy’s face.

“Italy…” Germany sighed again.

“I believe in you, Germany! I can’t remember a time you _weren’t_ prepared!” Italy’s eyes were half-closed and his smile was absolutely beaming. “So what do you say?”

“Well…” Germany reached up and took one of Italy’s hands. “If you really are dead set on this… I suppose we can try.”

\---

_Pregnant._

Italy rubbed at his eyes as he looked down at the test in front of him. It rested on the edge of the sink, clearly displaying those eight letters that would change his life.

He’d been sure to buy a test that revealed the words clearly. All of those lines and pluses and minuses would’ve been too much for him to figure out. He needed something clear and to the point. Italy bit his lip as his eyes filled with tears, trying to temporarily push down all of the emotions he was feeling right now.

Italy was pregnant. This was really happening.

He had no idea how far along he was, yet; being a nation, he didn’t get a period, and so there was no way of telling. He and Germany had been trying for a good two months, but he wouldn’t know exactly when it happened until he visited a doctor.

A million thoughts ran through his head as he sat down on the floor of the bathroom, still holding the test. He’d need to tell Germany first, of course. And then Romano and Spain, and Germany would probably tell Prussia, who would tell Russia (and probably everyone else), unless Italy could call Austria before Prussia did and tell him the news…

Italy rubbed at his head as a tiny smile broke across his face. His head hurt with all of the thinking he was doing, so he forced himself to slow down, if only a little. His first task would be telling Germany.

_Germany…_ his husband, who was still more than a little apprehensive at the idea of them having a child. Italy would have to think of a creative way to tell him…

His thoughts clicked into place, and Italy’s smile grew wider. He knew how he would do this.

\---

Germany came home from work that day exhausted. Even though there wasn’t really any urgent country business to take care of, his boss had him working hard anyway. As she usually did.

He slipped off his shoes as Italy slid into view, dressed casually with a pair of fluffy socks. He was standing in the kitchen, and wriggled a little as he stood there. “Ciao, Germany~” He greeted, voice airy and light as usual. And possibly a bit… excited? “I made dinner! And there’s something for you on the kitchen table too~”

“Italy, you shouldn’t buy me gifts on a whim,” Germany sighed as he, too, walked into the kitchen. He noticed a small box resting on the kitchen table. “What is it?”

“Open it up and see~” Italy purred in response, leaning against the counter as he waited. Germany examined his face, but for once, Italy wasn’t giving anything away.

Carefully, Germany looked at the package, then started to open it. Inside of it was a wad of bubble wrap, and after removing that, he found…

“A… coffee mug?” He asked, confused. Germany stared at it for a few seconds, turning it in his hands. “Why?”

“Look at what it says on the outside!” Italy bounced on his toes a little, and Germany turned it once more to read it.

“... _World’s Greatest Dad_? But I’m not…” Germany squinted. “Unless you count the dogs, I’m not a… wait…”

Italy beamed as he watched Germany put the pieces together. Slowly, very slowly, Germany set the coffee mug back on the table.

“Italy…” he finally said. “Are… are you…?”

Italy nodded, curl bobbing adorably at the side of his head. “Yes! We’re having a baby, Germany!”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

And then, possibly the biggest smile Italy had ever seen Germany make made its way across his face. The blonde rushed forward and gathered him in a tight, yet gentle, hug, burying his face into Italy’s hair.

“Oh -- _mein Gott_ , Italy -- we really did it? Are you _sure_?” He asked, looking down at his husband.

Italy nodded again. “Yes! I -- haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I took one of those home tests and it was positive!”

Still smiling, Germany twirled Italy around in the kitchen, then set him back down on his feet. “We’ll have to go to the doctor as soon as possible, to make sure you’re both healthy, but -- oh -- Feliciano!” And here he hugged him close again. “A baby -- we’re having a baby!”

Italy giggled, latching tightly onto Germany’s shirt. “A baby.”

It seemed, at least for now, that his fears about not being ready had faded away.

  
  



	2. Two

Germany never was a particularly heavy sleeper, so it was no surprise that with all the noise Italy was making, he would wake up.

He’d gotten quite used to the sound of vomiting in the early morning, unfortunately. Luckily for Italy, there was a bathroom in their bedroom, so he didn’t have to travel far. This did mean that Germany could hear everything, though, and he sighed as he got up and made his way to the bathroom.

Italy was bent over the toilet, whining as he finally got a reprieve from morning sickness. It really hadn’t been giving him much of a break at all, and Germany crouched down beside him, rubbing his back tenderly.

“Oh… Germany, did I wake you up?” Italy whimpered when he was able, leaning into his husband’s touch. “I’m sorry… you can go back to sleep if you want…”

“No, I wasn’t sleeping that well anyway,” Germany replied. “Anyway, I don’t want you to go through this alone. I’ll stay with you until you feel better, okay?”

Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Italy nodded, leaning against Germany. So far, pregnancy hadn’t been treating Italy well at all, and Germany wondered if it’d be like this the whole way through. He’d been reading up on the whole process ever since Italy had brought up the idea of having children, and apparently it varied greatly from person to person. Germany also remembered the beginning of Prussia’s pregnancy, which had been rough on him as well, and England’s wasn’t any better (hell, they found out he was pregnant after he passed out at a world meeting). It seemed as though nations had a trend of having difficult pregnancies.

Germany chewed on his lip as he thought about all of this. _Perhaps we should have thought this through a little longer?_ No, now was no time to be having doubts. He had to stay steady and secure in his decision, if only for Italy. As nervous as he was about being a father… this felt right, somehow.

\---

“Italy? What are you eating?”

The other nation froze as Germany called his name, standing in front of the fridge. Italy turned around slowly, holding a small package in his hands.

“Um…” Italy shuffled his feet as Germany continued to stare at him. “It’s… sausage?”

“ _My_ sausage?”

“Yes…” Italy looked down at his feet as Germany sighed. “Don’t be angry!”

“I’m not angry,” Germany clarified, walking over to Italy and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Slightly confused, yes, but not angry.”

“It’s one of the only things I can keep down,” Italy whined, looking at Germany with pitiful amber-brown eyes. “She has to be your baby if I can’t even eat pasta!”

“She?” Germany raised an eyebrow.

Italy, realizing his slip up, blinked, and then put a hand over his mouth. “I -- um -- it didn’t feel right calling our baby an “it” so I -- um -- I feel like she’ll be a girl. That’s all.”

“Really?” Germany’s eyes travelled down to Italy’s still flat stomach. “A little girl, huh?” For a moment, he pictured himself with his daughter -- a beautiful little girl, with his eyes and Italy’s hair -- and his heart ached with a longing he didn’t know he could have.

Italy nodded. “ _Si_ , um, can I get back to eating now? I’m hungry.”

Suddenly snapped out of his trance, Germany blinked a few times, and then nodded. “Ja, of course. Eat all you like, I can pick more up tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss his husband on the cheek, and then again on the lips.

It was love, he would realize later. Love that made his heart ache like that.

\---

“So-o~ how’s he holding up, lover boy?”

Germany was snapped out of his momentary trance by Prussia’s voice. His older brother had his son, Nikolas, on one knee, bouncing idly to keep him settled. The three year old seemed to have inherited much more of his mother’s personality, definitely. He wriggled impudently against Prussia’s arm until he finally let him go, though he kept a careful eye on the toddler as he ran off towards the kitchen sink.

“Oh, Italy? He’s… well, it’s been a little rough on him so far. A lot of nausea and morning sickness, and he keeps saying he feels bloated.” Germany replied.

“Oh yeah, that’s totally normal,” Prussia said, waving an arm. “Mine was awful. I slept in the bathroom sometimes -- Niko!” His attention snapped back to his son, who was attempting to climb up the front cabinets into the kitchen sink. “Out of the sink. No. Sinks are for dishes, not little boys.”

Germany couldn’t stifle a chuckle as Nikolas reluctantly complied with his mother, slowly climbing back down from the edge of the sink (and _not_ jumping, thank God) and running off in the opposite direction. Prussia sighed, then looked back at Germany.

“What’s with the laughing?”

“Nothing, it’s just… you,” Germany finally explained. “I never thought I’d see you this way. With a child.”

“Really? C’mon, West, you _had_ to know my awesomeness would spill over and make a baby some day,” Prussia said. “Besides, I raised you, didn’t I? It’s not like I’m not capable of it.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Germany replied. “I never thought I’d see you being domestic, is what I meant. You’re very good at it. One could say you’re a natural, but…” He paused. “I don’t know if I can be like that.”

Prussia let out a humming sigh, smiling as Nikolas ran to his side and tugged on the leg of his jeans, demanding to be picked up. He picked up his son, bouncing him in his arms as he looked back at Germany.

“You know, I haven’t really told anyone about this, but… I _really_ wasn’t ready when I found out I was pregnant with Niko,” Prussia admitted. “I kept seeing these families with kids and I thought, _there’s no way Ivan and I could ever be like that._ But I kept with it, and as I got further along, we both kinda… fell in love with this kid.” He poked Nikolas in the side, and the boy giggled, entirely unaware of the serious nature of the conversation. “We decided we were gonna do whatever we could to make sure he grew up happy, and healthy. As long as you remember that…”

And here, Prussia smiled.

“Everything else is just details.”


	3. Three

“We’ll need to be getting new clothes,” Italy murmured as he examined himself in the mirror. Germany sat on the bed next to him, reading through the most recent parenting magazine he could find. By now, he was getting close to three and a half months, and there was just a little extra weight at the bottom of his stomach. Even so, his normally well-fitting clothes were starting to get a little tight, and uncomfortable.

Germany put the magazine down. “I thought you might be saying that soon, so I’ve been looking for maternity stores nearby, but…”

“But…?” Italy asked curiously.

“These stores don’t really have clothes for _men_ , since… well, it isn’t very common,” Germany explained. “I suppose you’ll have to get clothes tailored… though, perhaps we can find some online--”

“Well, I don’t _mind_ wearing women’s clothes!” Italy said cheerfully. “I mean, I’ve done it before!”

Germany stared at him in confusion for a moment, before shaking his head. “I don’t want to make you do anything…”

“It’s okay! I’m comfortable with it~” Italy smiled, amber-brown eyes shining brightly. “Besides, women’s clothes are comfy! Sometimes they feel weird, but it’s not all _that_ bad!”

“Well… if you’re sure it wouldn’t bother you,” Germany started to say hesitantly, “Then I suppose we could go shopping, or order something if you aren’t feeling well.”

There were still many questions in Germany’s mind, but those could all be answered later.

\---

There was a knock on the door a few weeks later, which roused Italy from his nap. He’d been napping a lot more lately, probably from the added strain on his body from having to use more of its limited resources to support a fetus. To an outsider, it wouldn’t be obvious that anything was different about him, but to those close to Italy, it was becoming obvious. The fact that he was an older nation was one that couldn’t be ignored, and the strain it was starting to put on his body wasn’t negligible.

Italy stepped up to the door, rubbing at his lower back as he unlocked the door. Germany had been more strict than usual about keeping the doors and windows locked, so he was stuck fumbling with the locks for a minute, saying “One moment please!” as he did. When he finally got the door open, he blinked in surprise at who was standing in front of him.

“Romano? You didn’t tell me you were coming over!” Italy beamed a little, bouncing on his toes and clapping his hands together. “And what’s with all of this stuff?”

His older brother looked at him around the mass of stuff in his arms. “It was a _surprise_ , dumbass,” Romano muttered, pushing past Italy and stepping into the house. “I hate coming to this house, but I wanted to be _considerate_ and not stress you out, so here we are.”

“Roma’s been so worried about you lately,” Spain purred as he walked in behind Romano, giving a hug to Italy. “You’re all he talks about!”

“Not _all_ I talk about, asshole!” Romano snapped at his long-time boyfriend, setting all of the stuff he had on the kitchen table. “What, can’t a guy be worried about his little brother without his _boyfriend_ embarrassing the hell out of him?!”

Spain just flashed a beaming smile at Romano, before turning back to Italy, who had shut and re-locked the door. “How’ve you been feeling, little Italy? Morning sickness getting any better?”

Italy shrugged. “A little, it’s not as bad as it was.” He tugged at his shirt a bit. “What’s all the stuff you brought, Romano~?”

“Just old shit from my bedroom,” Romano muttered. “S’nothin’, I didn’t buy anything new so you don’t have to worry about paying me back.”

After a few moments of silence, Romano looked over his shoulder, as he had his back turned towards Italy previously. “Ita--”

“That’s -- that’s so sweet, Roma!” Italy cried, tears streaming down his face as he rushed forward to hug Romano. The older man gave an indignant squeak, before slowly resigning himself to his fate. “It must’ve taken you _hours_ to find all this stuff!”

“Not really… can you let me go? You’re crushing me,” Romano grumbled. Italy’s back-breaking grip loosened a bit, and Romano wriggled out of his arms. “I just didn’t know what you and the potato bastard already had, so I figured I might as well help out. Since, y’know, it’ll be my blood, too.”

Italy sniffled, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes as he smiled at Romano. “S-still, that’s so sweet of you! To think about me… about _us_ …” One hand rested gently over his stomach, which was a little more pronounced now, but only barely beneath the baggy shirt he wore.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t get all teary-eyed on me now,” Romano sighed, putting one hand on his hip. “I just… knew you’d do the same for me, so… yeah. Don’t mention it.”

If there was anything Italy hoped his child would inherit from their uncle, it would be his heart.

\---

The constant calls home were getting somewhat… annoying.

At first, Italy thought it was kind of adorable, that Germany was worried enough about him to take a break during his normally extremely busy day to give him a call. But once those calls started multiplying, and all started the same way (“Are you alright, have you had some water, have you eaten?”), it began to grind on his nerves just a little bit.

Italy was not easily annoyed, and definitely not usually by his husband, but there were certain things that bothered him. He was starting to get just a little bit annoyed with being treated like an invalid, or a child. Just because he was carrying one didn’t mean he needed to be treated that way!

So the next time Germany called, Italy picked up the phone with a clipped sigh and held it between his shoulder and ear while he cut up carrots for dinner.

“Germany,” Italy said immediately, before the other man could get a word in. “First of all, I’m _fine_. Second, you _don’t_ need to call me every two hours, nothing is going to happen to me. And third, I’m not a baby! I might be having one, but I’m not actually a baby! I’ve fought wars, I’ve held my own, you don’t have to be right next to me for _everything_ , okay?”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, and then Germany sighed heavily. “You’re right, I have been a bit… overbearing about this, haven’t I? I’m sorry, Italy. I just… I worry about you. She’s my baby, too, and you’re my husband, I don’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

Italy’s eyes softened, though he knew Germany couldn’t see it. “Oh, sweetheart… it’s okay! I know you only do it because you love me! And our baby knows you love her, too -- _oh_!” He paused, putting a hand on his stomach.

“Italy? What happened, are you alright?” Germany asked critically.

A bright smile broke across Italy’s face. “She kicked! The baby kicked, I felt her!”

There was silence on the other end once more, and then;

“I’m coming home, right now.”


	4. Four

Italy’s foot tapped with nervous energy as he stared at the phone on the table. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of it for the past three and a half hours.

Switzerland had called in a panic those three and a half hours ago, explaining that Austria was in labor and Hungary was out and  _ oh God what was he supposed to do?! _ Which, of course, had led to Italy telling Germany, and that in turn led them to their current positions on the couch. They had both managed to give some advice before Switzerland hung up, as they could hear Austria yowling for him in the background.

“You surprise me,” Germany said suddenly. Italy didn’t respond at first, too busy staring at the phone and clasping his hands in front of him so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I -- I what?” Italy asked, round eyes blinking quickly.

“You surprise me,” Germany repeated. “As far as I know, Austria has never been particularly kind to you. Why do you worry about him so much?”

“Well…” Italy fidgeted for a moment. “Sure, he’s been kind of a dick to… mostly everyone. But he  _ did _ raise me, and he  _ is _ in labor. I’m sure it’s scary for him, and since he’s having twins he’s even more high risk… I just don’t want anything bad to happen to him. Maybe it’s weird, or silly, but I just hope he comes out alright.”

They both were quiet for a moment, before the phone rang. Italy dove for it, picking it up with slightly trembling hands and holding it to his ear. “Hello -- oh! Hungary! What happened, is he --” He paused for a moment, and then a beaming smile crossed his face. “Oh -- oh that’s wonderful! So he’ll be okay then? ...yes, yes, that’s lovely! Okay, take care!”

He hung up, and then looked at Germany brightly. “Two little girls, and they’re both healthy! And Austria’s okay, too, he broke Switzerland’s hand but nothing too bad happened!”

Germany gave a soft sigh of relief. He hated to admit it, but he was a little worried for the aristocrat as well. Perhaps it was just Italy’s worry rubbing off on him? Sure, he could go with that for now.

He wasn’t worried about anything.

\--- 

It was almost hard to believe that they’d come this far.

Germany leaned back in bed against the headboard, with Italy resting in his lap, head on his chest. They were nearly seven months into this nine month ordeal, and with only two months left… Germany was starting to feel the panic setting in.

This wasn’t to say that they weren’t prepared. The nursery had been all set up (Sweden and Finland had been kind enough to send over some extra furniture they had lying around), names were picked out (Emmeline if it was a girl, which Italy was sure it would be, and Salomone if it was a boy), clothes and diapers were ready thanks to Germany himself and an impromptu baby shower on Prussia’s part…

So what exactly was it that Germany was panicked about?

Whenever his eyes rested on the now-prominent curve of Italy’s stomach, it became clear again. Right. The actual  _ birth _ of their child. Her (or his) arrival.

Germany had bore witness to the birthing process several times, the most recent of which being his own nephew’s. To be fair, he and Prussia had talked it over before he ever came close to going into labor, and they’d both decided that he’d at least be in the house. But thanks to a sudden snowstorm and lack of a midwife, Germany had more or less been forced into a much more involved role when the time came.

He remembered the exact moment when Nikolas was born, the way Prussia looked at his son in a way only a parent could, with so much  _ love _ and  _ adoration _ in his eyes. He remembered the way Russia looked at him, with  _ awe _ and  _ wonder _ and it had been one of the only times that Germany hadn’t wanted to strangle the significantly larger nation with his own scarf.

He thought of himself and Italy in that exact situation, and the emotions that welled up inside of him were enough to nearly choke him.

Whenever he thought of meeting their child for the first time, it felt like his brain simply couldn’t handle it. There were no words to express that feeling, or that experience. Yet again, his heart ached with longing, so badly he could feel it with every heartbeat.

Italy shifted in front of him, and Germany ran a hand through his soft auburn hair. They would be alright.

When the time came, they would be ready.

\--- 

“Go to work.”

Italy stood in front of Germany with his arms crossed, tapping one foot on the ground irritably. Germany looked at him with an absolutely pitiful expression.

“But -- Italy, you’re due in three days, is this  _ really _ the best idea? I could take off of work, stay here with you --”

“No, no, we both know how you get when you don’t have work,” Italy replied firmly. “You get cranky and moody and sometimes I think  _ you’re _ having a baby! And right now, I can’t really deal with that.” He sighed, putting one hand against his lower back and rubbing gently. “Please, Germany? I’ll be okay, and if anything happens I’ll call you right away.”

“...you’ll call me  _ immediately _ if you feel anything is off. Right?” Germany asked. “Right away?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Italy sighed exasperatedly. “Now go, you’ll be late, and I know your boss won’t wait on you forever.” He leaned up as best as he could to press a gentle kiss to his husband’s lips. “ _ Te amo,  _ Germany.”

“ _ Ich liebe dich, _ Italy.”

The house felt… emptier than usual when the front door shut. Like there was something missing that should be there. For a moment, Italy considered asking Germany to come back, but he knew that would only fry his nerves even further and that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

So, for the time being, he simply made his way to the “nest” of pillows and blankets he had created on the bed and laid down. There was a dull ache in his lower back, anyway, so maybe sleeping it off would help?

Maybe.


	5. Five

When Italy woke, the pain hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only grown more intense. He groaned as he slowly, slowly, sat up, supporting himself against the head of the bed. He really felt like he needed to head to the bathroom, so after a few more moments of lying there, he got up and started to walk.

That was, until he reached the doorway of the bathroom and nearly doubled over in pain, managing to support himself with one hand on the door frame. Italy panted heavily, his breath coming in shallow little gasps as he tried to breathe through the pain.

_ Okay. Okay, this isn’t a big deal, I’ll just get to the phone and call Germany _ , Italy thought as he turned to move back towards the phone on the bedside table. His water hadn’t broken yet, right? So that meant they still had a good bit of time, right? They had more than enough time to call the midwife, get everything sorted out --

Just as he reached the phone, Italy paused, swearing he could feel something pop and then fluid running down his leg.  _ Well, fuck. _ There went that plan. But he still needed to call Germany and the midwife, either way. With shaking fingers, he dialed Germany’s work number and held the phone to his ear. Why was he scared? There was no reason to be scared, he’d been preparing for this since before he even knew he was pregnant!

He was in the middle of another contraction when Germany picked up. “Italy? What’s going on?” His husband asked gruffly, with obvious worry in his voice. He  _ had _ told him he was only going to call if he felt something wrong, so it was natural that he was worried without even knowing what was going on.

Forcing himself to breathe through it, Italy gave a weak smile. “H-hey, Germany, my water just broke.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so suddenly, or in the manner it did, but once it was out there was no taking it back.

Silence stretched between them for a good few seconds, before Germany said rather loudly “ _ What?! _ ” The underlying terror in his voice was obvious, and Italy flinched, both from the pain he was in and from the fear in his husband’s voice. “Wait -- are you sure? Are you having contractions?”

“I was -- having one when you picked up,” Italy admitted. “I -- I don’t know how close they are yet. I just woke up.”

“Okay, alright, I -- I’m on my way, just try to relax and don’t worry about anything, try to time the contractions and just -- breathe, alright? I’ll call the midwife on my way,” Germany said quickly, all in a rush, too fast. Italy was used to talking fast, though, so he nodded even as his words slipped into rough German halfway through.

“I -- okay, Germany, please be careful and -- I love you,” Italy murmured softly.

“I love you, too. I’m going to be right there, I promise.”

Italy kept the phone to his ear for a few moments even after Germany hung up, savoring those sweet notes in his voice while he still could.

\--- 

“ _ Italy! _ ”

Germany’s voice rang through the house as he swung the door open, wincing when it hit the wall but otherwise keeping his focus centered on Italy and Italy alone. “Where are you?!”

“In here,” Italy called weakly from the bedroom. He was mostly focused on the pain, and keeping time between his contractions, so it was almost hard to even hear Germany at first. “Germany, I --”

“It’s alright, I’m here,” Germany said as he practically ran into the bedroom, standing beside him. Italy was supporting himself against the side of the bed, breathing as deeply as he could as he stood. “Have you been keeping track?”

“Y-yes, it’s been… seven minutes since the last one,” Italy replied, turning so he could grasp Germany’s hand in his own. “Germany, she’s -- she’s so low, it  _ hurts _ .” He whined desperately, all of the pain and fear he’d been holding back reflected in his amber-brown eyes as he stared into Germany’s pale blue ones.

“It’s going to be alright,” Germany repeated, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Do you want to sit down? You can stay upright if you want, but it might be easier on your legs if you sit.”

Italy nodded slowly, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, parting his legs to help with the growing pressure. Germany’s head spun with how  _ fast _ it all was happening, maybe because it had taken much longer with his nephew, he wasn’t expecting it to go so fast.

“How -- how far away is the midwife?” Italy whimpered, squeezing Germany’s hand. “She’s -- she’s close, right?”

“It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” Germany replied, moving his free hand to rub between Italy’s shoulder blades. “Can you hold on?”

Italy nodded. “I -- I don’t think I’m ready to push yet,” he said quietly. “It just -- it hurts so much!”

Germany’s hand moved down to Italy’s lower back, still rubbing gently, but reassuringly. “It’s going to be alright now that I’m with you. In just a little while, we’ll have our baby.” He managed a smile, trying to keep his husband calm for now. “Okay? Just hold on a little longer.” Inside, Germany could feel his stomach twisting with fear and worry, but he couldn’t let it show. Not now. He had to be Italy’s rock if they were going to get through this.

\--- 

The labor progressed quickly, which was both a blessing and a curse for Italy and Germany. Italy was sitting up against the back of the bed, panting heavily, holding Germany’s hand in a death grip while he cried out in pain. The midwife had arrived a few hours ago, like she said she would, and had been updating them on Italy’s progress the whole time. Germany was relieved that all of his hard work he put into finding a midwife had apparently paid off, as now Italy was in the final stages of labor. The hardest part.

“Alright, Mr. Vargas, you’re ready to push,” the midwife’s voice carried above Italy’s cries. Germany looked towards his husband from where he sat in the chair next to him.

“Did you hear that? You’re ready,” Germany murmured in his ear, pressing his forehead close to Italy’s temple. His heart pounded nervously in his chest. They had been intimate before, yes, obviously, but not like this. Never like this. This was a new level of intimacy and closeness they had never reached before. Even on the battlefield, Germany had never seen Italy look so vulnerable.

Italy whined softly, a high-pitched noise from high in his throat. “I -- I am?” He whimpered, his grip loosening momentarily on Germany’s hand.

From the foot of the bed, the midwife nodded. “Yes, just listen to me while you push and this will all be over soon. With the way you’re progressing, it shouldn’t take long, okay?” Her cheerful tone and bright aura seemed to calm Italy just a bit, though his breaths still came in fast gulps.

“Okay, I --  _ oh _ , ow, I have to --” Italy started to say, before he squeezed Germany’s hand once more as he felt a contraction. This one felt different, more urgent, and he pushed hard with the contraction as it came and peaked. He cried out in pain, in fear, and Germany wrapped one arm around his shoulders to pull him in close to his chest, holding him there.

“It’s alright, I’m here, it’s going to be alright,” Germany told him, repeating the soft mantra while Italy pushed. “Remember, deep breaths. She’s almost here.”

Italy managed a nod when the contraction ended, getting a momentary reprieve from the pain. It didn’t last long, though, because the next one was on him shortly after the last. He trembled in Germany’s arms as the aftershocks gripped him, all the while Germany pressed kisses to Italy’s forehead.

“She’s about to crown,” the midwife announced. “I want you to push slowly and gently, so you don’t hurt yourself, alright?”

“I -- I just -- want her out!” Italy cried, leaning his head against Germany’s chest as he struggled to regain his breath. “Can’t it -- go any faster?”

“Unfortunately, no, but she’ll be here very soon. Remember, you can take breaks if you need to in-between,” the midwife said soothingly.

Once again, Germany gently pressed his forehead to Italy’s temple. “Everything is going to be alright,” he repeated. “Focus on  _ her _ , and listen to  _ us _ . You can do this.”

Another whine left Italy’s lips, but he nodded as he did as the midwife instructed. Germany could only hope, for both his and Italy’s sake, that this would be over soon.

“It hurts, it hurts, it  _ hurts _ !” Italy sobbed after a few more pushes, when the baby came to a full crown. Germany bit his lip when Italy nearly crushed his hand in his own, intent on not saying a word. He was sure that whatever pain he was feeling right now was nothing next to what his husband was going through.

“She’s at a full crown now, the hardest part is almost over,” the midwife reassured him. “Remember to breathe and push. It’s almost over.”

Italy seemed somewhat relieved at that news, but he still gave a cry of pain when his body forced him to push. Germany continued murmuring into his ear, trying to keep him calm and encourage him to go on at the same time. He knew his husband was exhausted, he’d been in active labor for hours now, but they couldn’t afford to give up now.

So focused was he on Italy’s well-being that Germany barely registered the midwife saying that her head was out, but when he did, he looked down at Italy quickly.

“Her head is out,” he repeated to him, rubbing the back of his hand with his fingers. “She’s so very close, Feliciano. We’re going to meet our daughter.”

Italy nodded, trying to breathe in and out deeply as he could. “Okay -- I -- it hurts so much, I can’t --”

“Yes you can,” Germany told him, firmly but gently. “You can do this. You are strong, so strong, Feliciano. I’m so very proud of you.”

His eyes sprung open as Italy tilted his head up to look at Germany in surprise, but paused as another contraction wracked his body. He screamed and cried and  _ wailed _ for it to just end already, and when he finally stopped to catch his breath…

Germany did his best to peer over Italy’s body and get a look at what was happening as the midwife rubbed towels over something,  _ something _ , and his breath was caught in his throat as he waited --

Finally, a tiny cry rang out through the air.

Italy slumped against Germany as the midwife smiled, bundling the newborn in towels and carefully, very carefully, making her way to Italy’s side.

“A healthy baby girl, congratulations,” she said brightly, gently placing the newborn on Italy’s chest.

“Oh --” Italy finally stuttered out when he was able, placing one hand on the infant -- his daughter’s -- back, and the other just behind her head. “Oh,  _ mio Dio _ , Ludwig --”

“You did it,” Germany sighed in relief, his shoulders dropping as he felt all of the tension leave him all at once. “You did it, she’s here. She’s here.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He didn’t know what else he could say. A few hot tears slipped down his face, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Our Emmeline.”

She was the most beautiful thing Germany had ever laid eyes on. His own daughter. She had a tuft of dark red hair, like Italy’s, and she was so tiny that Germany feared he may break her if he even touched her.

It took a little while longer for everything to get cleaned up and finished, but once it was over, and Italy nursed his daughter -- their daughter, their Emmeline -- for the first time, he looked back up at Germany.

“Do you want to hold her?” He asked softly, his voice barely there, so unnaturally quiet that Germany nearly had to strain to hear it. For the first time in a long time, Germany suddenly felt very bashful.

“I -- I --” He stuttered and hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “I would love to.”

Carefully, Germany took little Emmeline from her mother’s arms, making sure to support her head and keep her close. She gave a few soft whimpers of protest, before relaxing in her father’s arms.

After only managing to stare at her for a few seconds, Germany finally spoke. “She’s perfect,” he whispered, voice thick with tears. “Oh… she’s perfect.” Germany had made so many things with Italy over the years.

But this, their daughter, was definitely the most beautiful.


End file.
